On the Hogwarts Express
by DollhouseDancer
Summary: Hermione fiddled with her new locket as she stared out the window of the train, anxious for her eighth year. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn't hear the door open. "Sorry," Draco mumbled. "I thought it was empty." A deep breath, a quick decision, and the future is changed. Enemies find that perhaps they have more in common than they knew, and unlikely friendships grow.
1. Chapter 1

Hello out there!

I am Dollhouse Dancer. Two years ago I went on a magically-inspired writing binge and created a story that I called Harry Potter and the Boy Who Got Away, which I posted here. A few days ago I decided to go back and reread my story (which was much more enjoyable than I expected. It turns out that I really enjoy my own writing, even though I know what's coming!) and I came across a little drabble that I started but never quite finished. It is unconnected to my previous story and much shorter, and follows Hermione and Draco as they return to Hogwarts for their eighth year. I am working on finishing it now, and decided that it is worth posting. So here it is: the story of what began on the Hogwart's Express on the first of September, 1999.

* * *

Hermione stared out the window of the train. She had purposely chosen a compartment on the far side, facing away from Ron and Harry waiting on the platform. She had said her goodbyes and she couldn't bear the thought of having to watch them fade into the distance as the train pulled away. Returning to Hogwarts without them was frightening enough as it was.

She smiled as she examined the present Ron gave her before she boarded. It was a small golden locket. The inside was enchanted to display a continuous loop of images. From each one her own face, next to Ron's and often Harry's, peered out as the tiny figures waved and smiled.

"To make sure you can't forget me," he had said. She grinned.

"I could never forget you."

But despite this, she was nervous to go back to Hogwarts. True, Luna and Ginny would be there, and in fact, Hermione would now be in their year. But the rest of her friends had graduated or moved on to work in the Ministry. She couldn't help but think that she would be terribly out of place, an eighth-year student taking seventh-year classes.

Hermione was so absorbed in her thoughts that she barely registered the sound of the compartment door sliding open. She looked up as the intruder inhaled sharply.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his face to the floor, "I thought it was empty." His blond hair hung limply down, obscuring his face. "I'll go."

Hermione stood and opened her mouth. Before she could get anything out, the intruder raised his head, glancing into her eyes for a moment before looking away.

"Thank you." Hermione had to strain to hear Draco's words. "For saving me. And for speaking at my trial. I would be dead or locked up without you and Potter." He turned to slide through the doorway.

"Wait," Hermione said softly. Draco stopped, his hand on the door. She took a deep breath, almost afraid of her next words. "You can stay. I'm all alone in here, there's plenty of room."

Draco turned back to face her. Not quite making eye contact, he nodded. "Thanks."

Hermione settled back in her seat, the locket tucked safely away in her pocket. She opened her book and turned to lay her legs across the long bench, sneaking a glance at Draco. She couldn't help but think that he looked sick, and tired. His eyes were sunken, and there were large dark circles around them. He was even more pale than usual, paler than a human should ever be. He was dressed smartly as always, but his hair hung loose and limp across his face. As she watched he sunk into the bench and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The candy trolley came and went and the train rocked softly back and forth as it sped towards Hogwarts. Draco never stirred from his position. In silence Hermione closed her book and stuffed it away before lifting her trunk down from its rack. She pulled on her robe and took a step towards Draco.

"Are we nearly there then?" Draco asked before she could reach him. There was no trace of sleep in his voice as he sat up.

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Were you awake this whole time?"

Draco pursed his lips. He looked towards the door as he stood up. "It was nice of you to let me stay but I hardly think I need to tell you about my sleep patterns." Despite his harsh words his voice lacked its usual condescending tone.

Hermione looked Draco over quickly. The dark shadows, the pale skin, the too-thin frame. She stepped quickly between him and the door.

"Listen," she started. Draco rolled his eyes as he tried to step around her. She blocked his way. "I promise I'll only say this once. Then we never have to talk again if you don't want to." Draco sighed but stopped trying to push past her.

"The war hurt us all," Hermione struggled to keep her voice from shaking. "I've had trouble sleeping since June, and when I can sleep I have nightmares. It messed with my head, all the fighting, the stress of trying to stay hidden. Ron too. It's worst for Harry, he thinks it's all his fault. We've been seeing Muggle doctors for it, they call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. But it's really hard, because there's so much we can't tell them." She paused and looked closely at Draco. "And we're the heroes. The ones that everyone praise. We have all the advantages. People to talk to, support from the Ministry, even just each other. And even with all that I still wake up screaming." Her voice was shaking badly now. "I can't imagine what this would be like without all of that."

"Your point?" Draco asked harshly.

"I understand. And… I'll talk to you, if you ever want it. If not I'll leave you alone." She stepped quickly out of his way.

Draco lingered for a moment, staring at the floor, before silently opening the door to the compartment and slipping out.

* * *

I love to receive comments, feedback, and criticism of any kind on my work. Please let me know what you think. I will be updating soon. -DD


	3. Chapter 3

"Take out your wands," Professor McGonagall's voice boomed across the classroom. Despite serving as the Headmaster she was still teaching Transfiguration. "Today we will begin work on the Protean charm. Since this is a complicated process that requires the manipulation of multiple objects you will be working in partners specified on the board." She waved her wand at the chalkboard and a list of partners appeared. Hermione was surprised to see her name next to Draco's.

"Today we will be working with parchment," Professor McGonagall continued as the students settled into desks with their partners. "You will be charming two pieces of parchment to mimic your third, master parchment."

Hermione sat down next to Draco and rummaged through her bag for parchment, purposely avoiding looking at him. They were nearly three weeks into the term and hadn't spoken once since the train.

A low mumble filled the classroom as Hermione straightened up, three pieces of parchment clutched in her hand. She snuck a glance at Draco as she set them down. He looked as gaunt and tired as ever.

"I actually already know how to do this," she said as she looked back at the table.

"So do I." Draco's voice was husky.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I guess it won't take us long then." She picked up one of the papers and waved her wand to begin the Appellation spell. They worked in silence for several minutes.

"I came back to get away," Draco suddenly said. Hermione glanced up at him curiously. He was silent for a minute before he continued. "To get away from the Death Eaters and my parents and-" his voice trembled slightly, "from the nightmares."

Hermione nodded. She had wondered why Draco had bothered to return. All of the students who had been at Hogwarts for seventh year, except for those who had spent a good portion of it hidden in the Room of Requirement, were considered graduated. Most of those who fought in the battle had already joined the Ministry, and Harry and Ron had recently started as Aurors. From their whole year she and Draco were the only ones who had returned.

"They won't stop though," Draco continued. "The nightmares." He set down the paper that he had been working on and picked up another.

Hermione slid her paper towards him. Her left sleeve rode up a little and she quickly tugged it down.

"You have a scar, don't you?" Draco asked as he noticed the movement. "From Bellatrix."

Hermione looked at him. She pulled her sleeve up just enough to reveal the white D scarred on her arm. "I'll have it forever."

"I should have done something." Draco's gaze dropped to the desk and he seemed to wilt. "I should have stopped her."

Hermione lifted her hand. She took a deep breath and gently set it on Draco's shoulder. He jumped at the sudden contact, nearly ripping the parchment he was holding.

"You tried to help us," she said. "None of us will ever forget that. If you hadn't lied about who we were we would be dead now."

Draco slammed the completed paper down. "I should have done more. I should still do more. I shouldn't be such a coward who just runs away from his problems." He stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder before stalking out of the classroom.

"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall hurried across the room to Hermione. "What was that about?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't think he's been sleeping," she said quietly.

McGonagall nodded. "We've all experienced the effects of the war." She looked at the papers in Hermione's hand. "Did you finish the charm?"

Hermione lifted her quill and made a mark on the first page. It instantly appeared on the others.

"Very good work," McGonagall said as she examined the papers. "The rest of the class will be continuing this next week. I will be giving you and Mr. Malfoy a challenge."


	4. Chapter 4

Draco had continued Potions as well. In fact, with Slughorn as professor, a good deal of students were taking their potions NEWTs. The day after the confrontation in Transfiguration Hermione found that she couldn't keep her attention on the potion she was trying to brew.

"Are you alright?" Luna's singsong voice cut into her thoughts. Hermione jerked her eyes back to her potion in time to realize that she had nearly added twice as many flobworms as she needed. She sighed and adjusted her measurement.

"Just a little distracted," she murmured. She glanced at Draco again. He was hunched over his cauldron, pale and thin. She sighed.

* * *

"Untransfiguration," Professor McGonagall began, "can be quite difficult, particularly if you do not know what the original form of the object was." She glanced at the two students in front of her. "That is why I have chosen to give it to you as a challenge while the other students continue their work on the Protean Charm. I have 5 objects here that I have transfigured. You will attempt to untransfigure each of them to their original form."

Hermione nodded and scribbled notes on her parchment as Professor McGonagall set the objects on the table; a teapot, a decorative umbrella, an old boot, a Muggle newspaper, and a doorknob. She picked up her wand and glanced surreptitiously at Draco before pulling the doorknob towards herself. From the corner of her eye she saw him take the teapot.

"Reparifarge," Draco muttered. The teapot wobbled for a moment.

"That only works on poorly done transfigurations," Hermione said softly. She pointed her wand at the doorknob. "Mutio fasciculos." The doorknob spun in place and sprouted a feather.

"It's a quill," Draco said. His voice was empty of emotion. He pointed his wand at the doorknob and, with a flick of his wrist, it became a long quill. He turned back to the umbrella.

Draco and Hermione continued their work in silence. By the end of the period the teapot had become a stack of parchment and the old boot was beginning to resemble an inkpot. Hermione packed her bag quietly and left the room.

* * *

Draco was absent from Potions that week. Hermione took to surveying the Great Hall at each meal, searching for his white blond hair. He was missing more often than not.

Ginny was quick to notice Hermione's strange behaviour. "Why do you keep looking at the Slytherin table?" she asked at lunch on Sunday.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "It's Draco," she answered quietly. "I'm worried about him."

Ginny looked at Hermione like she had two heads. "Why would you be worried about that git?"

Hermione thought about the question for a moment. "He's sick," she finally answered. "I don't think he's handling things well since the war. He sat with me on the train here. He's so different."

Ginny snorted. "Don't let Ron hear you talking like that."

Hermione turned towards Ginny, a horrified look on her face. "It isn't like that! It's just- all our worlds crashed down around us. It's been awful for all of us, Ginny, you know that. But he's alone, and I can see it eating away…" Her voice trailed off as a pale boy walked through the door and settled into a seat at the end of the Slytherin table. He put his head in his hands. Hermione turned back to Ginny, her face set in a look of determination. "I love Ron. It could never be anyone else. But Draco needs a friend."

Ginny glanced at the blond boy sitting alone and appearing uninterested in the food he was playing with on his plate. She nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione was almost surprised to see Draco in Transfiguration. He settled into the seat beside her and pulled the Muggle newspaper towards himself. He flipped idly through it, his wand resting on the table beside him, as Hermione continued working on the old boot. As she pushed it, now returned to its original form of an inkpot, away, she heard a small voice. She glanced at Draco and realized that he was talking to her.

"Do you have class after this?" he asked hesitantly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, this is my last of the day."

Draco's eyes glazed over as he turned to look at her. "Would you go somewhere with me? Somewhere quiet. You- you said we could talk."

Hermione fought to keep from smiling. "Of course. Its warm out, why don't we sit by the lake?"

Draco's eyes focused on her and he nodded. "That sounds nice."

* * *

And so it was that after class Hermione Granger found herself walking down to the lake with Draco Malfoy, her bag slung over her shoulders. Most of the Hogwarts students were still in class, but a group of Ravenclaws sat studying in the courtyard, and several Hufflepuffs were playing catch with an old Snitch nearby. Hermione and Draco walked along the shore to a secluded spot and settled down on the ground. Draco immediately hunched over and rested his chin on his knees.

"Hungry?" Hermione asked as she rooted through her bag. "I didn't see you at lunch." Or breakfast, she added silently as she found what she was looking for. She pulled two small packages from the bottom of her bag and handed one to Draco.

"What is it?" he asked as he surveyed the crinkly wrapper.

"It's called a granola bar," Hermione answered. "It's really good. These ones have chocolate inside. You open it like this." She demonstrated how to pull the wrapper apart.

Draco fumbled with the wrapper for a moment before he managed to open it. He examined it suspiciously before taking a miniscule bite. His eyes lit up as he tasted it, and he quickly devoured the rest. Chuckling, Hermione handed him a second one.

"Why do you carry these around in your bag?" he asked as he pulled apart the wrapper. He dropped the wrapper from the first one and it blew out onto the lake.

"It's a habit I took up after last year," Hermione said as she twirled her wand. The wrapper zoomed back to her hand and she stuffed it into her bag. "We spent a long time camping in the woods, and we didn't always have much food. Now I carry some with me everywhere. Just in case."

Draco silently stuffed his second wrapper into the pocket of his robe and lowered his chin back to his knees. He stared vacantly at the lake.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. His voice cut through the silence. "For everything I've done to you. All the times I called you-" his voice cracked. "I was wrong."

Hermione looked at him; huddled over, pale, defeated. She shifted a little closer and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. He shuddered at the touch. "I forgive you," she said gently. "For all of it. And I know- I know Harry does too. You have more in common with him than you realize."  
Draco turned to look at her, his eyes red and puffy. "What could we possibly have in common?"

"Neither of you had a choice," Hermione replied. "You were both just kids, forced into a war that you didn't really understand. The rest of us joined because we wanted to. But you, and Harry, you never had the choice to stay out of it."

At this Draco broke. Tears started to fall from his eyes as he sobbed quietly. Hermione wrapped her arm around his shoulder and he leaned into her, his tears forming a wet spot on her robe. They sat like that for a long time, until Draco's sobs subsided and his tears dried up. Finally he pulled away and sat stiffly, staring straight ahead.

"You don't have to be ashamed of crying," Hermione said, correctly guessing the reason for his change in behaviour. "Sometimes it's the only way to feel better. I'll never tell anyone."

Draco relaxed and turned his face towards her. His eyes were even more red than before, but his vacant expression was gone. Hermione wondered if that had been the first time he had allowed himself to cry. He sighed.

"Malfoys don't cry." His eyes flicked out over the lake. "We've always been rich and powerful and better than everyone else. We have perfect blood, and it must stay that way, because we're Malfoys and we have to be perfect. I've never been much good at being a Malfoy." He turned his eyes back to Hermione. "It's been hell, these last two years. I finally got everything I always wanted. But it was awful. People got hurt, people died. Because of me. Because I was too stupid to see the truth."

"You can't blame it all on yourself. I think everyone did things they aren't proud of." Hermione looked at the ground. "Some more than others. But it wasn't your fault, any more than it was mine. Or Harry's. Or Ron's." She looked up to see Draco's grey eyes boring into her. "It was him, Voldemort. He twisted so many people. We all got caught up in the middle of it."

Draco scoffed. "You know I wanted to do all of that. I was excited, Granger. When he gave me this-" he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a Dark Mark, faded and scarred, but recognizable nonetheless, "-I was so happy. It was everything I always wanted. I couldn't wait to do my duty, to earn my place by his side."

"Do you still want that?"

Draco dropped his head back to his knees. "No."

"People can change. You can change."

Draco didn't lift his head as he spoke again. Hermione had to strain to hear his words. "But what does that make me? I had what I thought I wanted in life, and it was terrible. What do I do now?"

"You pick up the pieces and move on," Hermione said. "You surround yourself with people who can look beyond your past, people who want the same things as you. And you try to figure out what you really want. It's all any of us can do."

There was a long silence. Finally, Draco looked up, and his eyes met Hermione's.

"Will you help me?"


	6. Chapter 6

Draco still wasn't eating.

Hermione began taking food to class with her. She would press it into his hand in the hall or leave it on his desk before the start of class. She would often see him surreptitiously chewing a few mouthfuls before stuffing the rest into his suspected that a pile of uneaten food was accumulating there.

Despite asking for help, Draco spoke to her very little in the following weeks. Hermione was surprised when, just a few days before Halloween and the first Hogsmeade trip, he appeared suddenly in the library and took a seat next to her.

Hermione glanced up from her essay. He looked as sick as ever- his skin too pale, his clothes too loose, his hair ruffled and uncombed. She doubted that he had slept in weeks; his eyes were sunken into deep shadows.

"Hungry?" Hermione asked almost automatically. She slid a granola bar across the table to him. After a moment of hesitation he picked it up and slowly peeled back the wrapper. "You really need to eat you know," she said as he took a large bite. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up."

"I'm already hurt," he said carelessly as he threw the wrapper over his shoulder. Hermione sighed and summoned it back to her hand.

"You don't have to make yourself sick. Just- come to dinner later. It'll be good for you."

"Fine," Draco muttered reluctantly. He eyed the paper in front of her. "Only if you'll help me with my Potions essay first.

Hermione sighed and pushed a book towards him. "What do you have so far?"

Draco reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment covered in scribbles. "Just some notes. Golpalott's Third Law, of course, and Bezoars. Couldn't forget those after Potter in sixth year."

Hermione frowned. "I was so mad at him for that. He was cheating all year, from an old book that used to be Snape's."

Draco's eyes brightened. "I knew he couldn't be doing that well on his own!"

Hermione chuckled as she pulled Draco's paper towards her. "It looks like you have everything I do. Interesting idea about the Murtlap essence. Are you sure it isn't counteracted by-"

"Ashwinder eggs. I know. But I've been over everything I can find and as long as the poison doesn't contain parnassus it's fine." He pulled his paper back towards himself. "What I'm most worried about is the antidote to magically enhanced snake venom."

Hermione lifted a book from the pile next to her and thumbed through the pages. "There's a section on it here, though it's not totally correct. I had to write Mr. Weasley to find out the last ingredient."

Draco skimmed his eyes over the page. "Why would he know?"

"He almost died when Voldemort's snake bit him in fifth year."

Draco paused, going as still as a statue. "Oh."

"Anyways," Hermione continued, "It was actually parnassus buds that they found to be effective, distilled with-"

There was a thump. Hermione looked up and Draco was gone. She bolted out of her seat and saw him lying on the floor, unconscious. She threw herself around the table and onto the floor next to him, scrabbling madly to feel for his pulse. It was faint but beat steady under her fingers.

Draco groaned and his eyes fluttered open. Hermione gazed down at him worriedly.

"What happened?"

"You collapsed," Hermione said as she helped him up. "I'm going to take you the hospital wing. Has this happened before?"  
"I'm fine," Draco tried to wave her off. "I'll just go to my dormitory and.."  
"Oh no you won't," Hermione interjected, her hand clasped firmly around his arm. "You're not eating, and I doubt you're sleeping either. You're going to to see Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine Granger," Draco growled. Her tried to pull his arm away.

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione's voice was firm, "I spent seven years convincing Harry and Ron to get help when they needed it. If you think you can get away, you are sorely mistaken." Her expression softened as Draco stopped struggling. "Besides, Madam Pomfrey is really great. In second year I turned myself into a cat with Polyjuice. I spent months in the hospital wing and she never once asked how it happened."

Draco gave her a curious look as he moved to sit up. He swayed slightly and Hermione tightened her grip around his arm.

"Come now." Hermione's voice was soft as she led Draco out of the library.. Many eyes stared in wonder as the friend of Harry Potter led the Death Eater down the long hallway to the infirmary.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco was still in the infirmary on Halloween. Madam Pomfrey had insisted on keeping him there until he was eating and sleeping a little more normally. After a week he had read 17 books, written 5 barely coherent essays on random topics, and slept approximately 11 hours. Madam Pomfrey was beginning to regret her decision and her dwindling supply of dreamless sleep potion. But he had been eating regularly, and for that she was grateful.

Hermione had come to visit every day; in fact, she was the one bringing books from the library. But it was something special that she brought with her on Halloween night.

"It's a classic," Hermione insisted as she held the book out. "And I think you'll really enjoy it. There are some wizards in it, though they aren't anything like the real ones. Think of it as a chance to learn."

Draco eyed the stack of books that she placed onto the bed beside him. "It's so long," he protested half-heartedly. "Even if it's the best story ever, I don't think I could stomach something a muggle wrote that had to be published in three separate books."

"I went to a lot of work to get this for you, and you are going to read it," Hermione said. "I won't bring you any more books until you do. And you know Madam Pomfrey won't give you any. So either you read it, or you lie here and stare at the ceiling. At least then you might get some sleep."

Draco huffed. "Fine. What's it about, anyways?"

"A quest to destroy a magical ring."

Draco grimaced. "That sounds awful. I doubt I'll make it two chapters, nevermind-" he picked up one of the books, "-two towers. How did you get these anyways? There aren't any muggle bookstores in Hogsmeade."

"Harry brought them with him. I spent the day with him and Ron."

Draco looked away when Hermione mentioned her friends. He seemed to be thinking. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "Do they know? That we're-" he stopped.

"Friends." Hermione finished his sentence. "We're friends, Draco. And yes, they do. Ron's a little touchy about it, but he'll be okay. Harry… Harry's actually glad, a little. That's why he agreed to bring the books." She noticed the confused glance he cast at her. "Like I said at the lake- you have more in common than you realize."

When Hermione visited the next day Draco looked strangely refreshed. The shadows beneath his eyes were several shades lighter, and a healthy glow was returning to his skin. He claimed not to have touched her muggle books a single time during the night, but when he grabbed a glass from beside his bed, his hand bumped the stack, and Hermione saw a bookmark resting far into the first of the series.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco improved rapidly after his discharge from the hospital wing. Sleep still evaded him more often than not, but he came to most meals, and he never missed a class. Hermione found that she quite enjoyed working with him. He was a bright student, and was nearly as serious about his studies as she was about hers. The two took to working and studying together regularly.

Despite having been locked in Draco's cellar for a good part of the previous year, Luna welcomed him as a friend with open arms. Late one night she confided in Hermione that her acceptance was in fact largely due to her time in Malfoy Manor. She had seen his face, his reluctance, his fear, every time he had come down to the cellar. She knew that he was suffering too.

Ginny wanted to accept Draco. She understood what Hermione saw, his need for a friend, for compassion. But it was hard. Every time she looked at him, she heard his insults echoing in her head. Mudblood, blood traitor. She saw all the things he had done in the war. It wasn't until a particular night in late November, when the three girls and Draco were exploring an old corridor and she accidentally became locked in a closet with him for a full twenty minutes, that she was able to set the past aside. When, after many spells (and several curses) Hermione and Luna were able to wrench the door open, they found the two smiling and chatting like old friends. Ginny and Draco refused to tell them what had happened in that closet, but afterwards their fights were of the friendly type, and they discovered a mutual love of dry jokes.

* * *

It was precisely this closeness of the friends that made Christmas holidays so difficult to sort girls, of course, were going home. Hermione was anxious to spend time with her parents. Their memories of her had mostly recovered since she and Ron had found them in Australia, but there were still gaps. Ron was going to come to stay with the Grangers for a full week, and then he and Hermione were going to spend the remaining vacation time at the flat he shared with Harry. Ginny couldn't wait to get home herself to see Harry. She was hoping to spend some time staying in the flat as well- though her parents disapproved strongly. And Luna was excited to spend the vacation with her father. But Draco's situation was a different matter.

"I'll just stay in my dormitory for the holidays," he insisted. This was at least the twelfth time that the girls had broached the matter in the past three weeks. "I was never planning to go home anyways. I just want some peace and quiet."

Hermione surveyed him from across the large library table. She was glad that he knew better than to try to go home; Malfoy Manor was full of former Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters who, one way or another, had managed to escape imprisonment in Azkaban. Not to mention his parents, who they all knew were fuming at the rumours that he was spending time with a mudblood, a blood traitor, and "that crazy witch with the incompetent fool of a father." But she did not like the idea of leaving him alone for the holidays, either. He still wasn't sleeping regularly, and was subsisting off of naps stolen between classes. And without someone watching him, she didn't trust that he would continue to eat properly. She had already noticed that he was beginning to miss meals again as the holidays approached.

"You can stay with daddy and me," Luna offered for the seventh time. "Our holidays are always quiet, but we do have so much fun! And this year we're going to join the Weasleys and Harry and the Grangers for Christmas dinner! It's going to be like a big family reunion!"

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The lack of sleep was giving him headaches. "No, Luna," he said. "I'm sorry. I just can't."

"We can't leave you here alone," Ginny said softly. "You know we just want to help. My family has lots of room, I could talk to them, my parents wouldn't mind. It might take a couple days to get used to the idea, but…" Her voice trailed off as Draco shook his head.

"What about the flat?" Draco's head snapped up at the suggestion from Hermione. "Harry and Ron's flat, I mean. For the first week neither of them will be home. You could stay there. They have an extra room and everything. If you want to spend time with us you can, and if you want to be alone, you can do that too." She grinned slyly. "And you can't protest, because it will certainly be quieter there than it will be here."

Hope fluttered deep in Draco's eyes for a moment. But before he could agree, it was snatched away by the dark fog that seemed all too often to hang in them. "Potter and Weasley will never let me stay in their flat, especially not alone," he mumbled, his head sinking down to the table. "And then there's still the second week. None of you will want me around for that."

"Oh yes they will let you," Ginny's voice took on its usual commanding tone. "I'll write them myself and tell them they don't have a choice. And for the second week- well, that's what silencing charms are for." She grinned devilishly.


	9. Chapter 9

And so it was that Draco Malfoy sat in the living room of the Weasley's ramshackle house on Christmas day, dressed in a wonderfully soft silver jumper and surrounded by a large stack of sweets. From her seat with her parents Hermione smiled as she saw him taking in the chaos of the room. He was a far cry from the boy who had sat across from her on the train only a few months before. He had been sleeping well in Harry and Ron's flat, and it showed. His face had lost its pallid sheen, and his eyes were no longer hidden in dark shadows. He had been nervous to come here, after all the harm that he had caused. But when he received a letter from Molly Weasley on December 23 personally inviting him to Christmas dinner, his face had lit up with excitement.

Christmas the last year had been bleak for everyone, with the possible exception of Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who had celebrated it in Australia. But this Christmas was truly a day to be remembered. There were mountains of food and gifts, endless games, and a general cheery atmosphere. When the guests left late the night, Hermione and Ron went arm-in-arm. Hermione was wearing a broad grin and a sparkling diamond ring.

* * *

The second week of Christmas vacation proved to be even better than the first. Hermione began to move her things into Harry and Ron's flat (hers as well, now, as soon as school was over), and the Weasleys were so overjoyed about her engagement to Ron that they completely forgot to forbid Ginny to stay there as well. With five occupants the flat was beginning to feel full, but in a comfortable sort of way. Hermione invited Luna to come over whenever she wanted, but the girl said something mysterious about a Hufflepuff named Rolf and effectively vanished.

There was one interesting effect of living together that none of them had anticipated: the frequency with which each was woken by nightmares became abundantly clear. When Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny returned to the flat, silencing charms were put on each of the bedrooms for privacy. This helped somewhat, as it made it impossible for anyone to wake up the entire household with their all-too-regular nighttime screams. But it was quite common to find two or even more of the housemates in the kitchen making cocoa or warming milk at any time of night.

"That's why I enjoyed the Ents so much," Harry's voice was low but clearly audible from the doorway of Ron and Hermione's room. She smiled and took a step towards the kitchen, ready to drink something warm and forget the horrors of her dreams.

"They were so slow. And besides, what good is a species who can't even keep track of their wives?" Hermione stopped suddenly; that was Draco's voice. He had been distant with Harry and Ron the whole Christmas break. In fact, he had seemed to be scared of them. But this sounded like a promising conversation.

"But they acted quickly when it was really necessary," Harry insisted. "If it wasn't for them, Isengard wouldn't have fallen!"

"The ring-wraiths are more my style." A long silence followed Draco's declaration, followed by a low chuckle. "I'm joking! Don't be so serious, Potter."

"Harry. Please Draco, call me Harry. Listen, I know we haven't talked much this holiday- well, we haven't talked much ever, have we?" Hermione heard Draco grunt in affirmation. "But I would like to get to know you better. Hermione says you're a really good friend. I hope, someday, we can be good friends too."

Hermione smiled and quietly stepped back towards her bed, her nightmare forgotten.


	10. Chapter 10

School started soon after the new year. It went on in much the same way it had been before, with two notable exceptions: Draco had, at last, resumed healthy sleeping and eating habits; and Harry and Ron began to spend a good deal more time in Hogsmeade and visiting the castle. In a strange twist of circumstances, a good many of those trips were to spend time with Draco, who, as an eighth-year student, had been given special permission to go to Hogsmeade whenever he pleased. The three boys began a weekly tradition of drinks at the Hog's Head, where they talked mostly about Muggle literature (which Draco read voraciously, but Ron lagged seriously behind in) and movies (of which Ron had seen many, but Draco had almost no knowledge). Draco returned from these evenings cheerful and refreshed, and always slept well afterwards.

* * *

Hermione beamed as Professor McGonagall handed her the rolled-up parchment. She snatched it from the Headmistress' hand and anxiously fiddled with the cord binding it as she took her seat. The others followed: Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley. She was too excited to think of anyone else. At last, after eight years of working and studying, she had done it: she had graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and clutched in her hand was the certificate proving it.

To her left, Draco caught her eye. He waved his paper at her slowly, and for the first time she noticed a mark on it. She glanced down at her own and her suspicion was confirmed. Lightly traced across the page, enchanted to be seen only if you looked just right, was a large number eight. She traced the line with her finger and then looked up. She smiled widely at Draco, who grinned back. They were both immeasurably glad to be Hogwarts' first ever eighth year students.

* * *

Life was not perfect after leaving Hogwarts. Draco moved in with the others, permanently. His parents would not allow him to return home. He continued to have nightmares, as did Hermione, and Harry, and Ron. The wizarding world was still broken and divided, and the young friends felt it in every part of their lives. But time marched on. The nightmares became less frequent, the memories less sharp. And, on a lazy day in February, Draco received an owl from his mother, a kind letter, the type meant to repair long-broken bridges. No, life was not perfect. But it was made better by an unlikely friendship kindled by a train ride and a keen eye.

* * *

Here ends this story. If you have enjoyed it please let me know in the comments. I love to see what people have thought, and I'm always happy to receive any kind of feedback. Comments come to my email, so even if its been a long time since I posted this, I would love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading my story.


End file.
